To Be a Master
by Sakura-Revolution
Summary: Sad little thing.... it has a third chappie, but I'm fighting my computer.
1. To

The day had come and Kunzite half hoped that Beryl had forgotten to choose him a student. But all of that was racing through his head too fast to stick as he opened the door to his rooms and saw the scared boy with the vivid jade eyes that stood just inside. He almost smiled, looking the boy over. He was femmy and slender, with long copper blonde hair that glimmered down around him and caught the dim light from the hall. Kunzite calmly walked in, letting his eyes go over the boy, before making a ball of luminescent magic to hover at his hand for a closer inspection. This revealed that the boy was much younger than he had expected, just a little past childhood, and very baby-faced. His skin gleamed with youth and care, but when Kunzite touched it, he could feel scaring, covered by a thin glamour, most likely by Beryl so that he would look more worth Kunzite's time."Young aren't you?" he muttered. He waited for an answer, although none came. He looked at the boy sharply, but he hadn't moved, although from his breaths Kunzite could tell he was trembling. He wondered what had happened to make such a young boy so docile. "I said something to you, boy. Can you speak?" he asked. He gave the boy's hair a light tug to get him to look at him. He almost was tempted to hit him, being a man of little patience when his interest was held, but didn't. He suspected that the boy had taken far too many blows already, and his violence should be preserved until training. "Come on boy, surely you are not a mute, and if you are an idiot, I should not waste precious time teaching you what you will forget presently." Kunzite said. The boy finally looked at him, his eyes as if waiting for the blow to come.  
  
"I am. Sir." He said, his words were clipped by the fact that he seemed afraid of speech. Kunzite was impressed by his polite response. He smiled at the boy.  
  
"If you'll do as I say, I won't hit you." He said. He knew that he was a bit of a terror to work with, and would probably break that vow at some time or another, but he hoped he didn't break it too soon, or else he'd never teach this scared little boy.  
  
"Yes sir." The boy responded. Kunzite barely suppressed a scowl. He hated that way of speaking. 'Sir' was just so . . . Sailor-like.  
  
"If you'll call me Master, things will be made easier." He said. To his surprise the boy nodded agreement . . . sans that scared meekness. His face lit up and Kunzite was astounded by just how beautiful he looked. He scowled at himself inwardly for his reaction. This boy was less than half his age and already he was arousing him.  
  
"You are a lovely thing. I'll grant you that." He said. The boy seemed pleased by this complement and Kunzite decided that he would truly try to keep his vow. This one might actually become a fine warrior with enough coaxing.  
  
"Thank you, Master." He said. The word slipped from his mouth easily, as if he had said it many times, although his age and attitude suggested otherwise. Kunzite nodded to him.  
  
"Good." He said easily. Then looked at the boy's eyes more closely. They were a vibrant green and had flashes in them of a deeper green that radiated across, giving his eyes a look of water ripples. "Come on now. You are from this moment forward my student. You must learn all you can from me, because someday you will fight at my side." He said, covering all the bases that Beryl demanded students know, and feeling like Obi Wan from that stupid movie. More like Darth Vader, he corrected himself and had to allow himself some amusement at that prospect. He found it hard to think about himself with children. To his surprise the boy nodded with some inward understanding. Kunzite outwardly smiled. "Such a smart little rat aren't you?" he said, stroking the boy's cheek in approval. To his surprise, the boy rubbed his cheek against Kunzite's gloved hand. Kunzite recognized it as a skin hungry signal, but was amazed to see someone untouched enough to preform it.  
  
"As my student . . . we are nearly one, and in necessity of us being together nearly all the time, we will share living quarters, as well as a bed. This is not for sexual contact, so don't look so afraid." He quickly added, watching fear dawn on the boy's features, it disappeared quickly and the boy nodded agreement.  
  
"Yes Master." He said. Kunzite wondered how old he was, he seemed smart, but looked barely into double digits.  
  
"How old are you?" He asked. The boy had to think for a moment.  
  
"Eleven." He reported. Kunzite was stunned. Usually boys that age were full of energy and disrespect, but the boy was so docile. Again Kunzite had the thought of abuse. He petted the boy's cheek again, watching the way his eyes closed as his fingers neared them. He was pleased with this student, he was obedient, smart, and rather beautiful . . . although that was not something that really mattered as much as the others. Still, a beautiful boy was an advantage . . . in some ways. Kunzite shook those thoughts out of his head, angry at himself for even thinking such things. This was an already abused child and he should try to get rid of the abuse, not create even more trauma.  
  
"Well, you need to start your training quickly, do you have any prior . . . " Kunzite stopped. Noticing the fear that had gone across the boy's face. "What is it?" he asked. The boy just took a step back, and tripped over the foot of Kunzite's bed, sprawling and raising his arms to shield his face. Kunzite quietly waited, letting the boy's immediate fear cease, The boy's hands shielded his face, making him seem somehow even younger to Kunzite and Kunzite gently lifted the boy to his feet, still trembling and now softly weeping, the tears soaked into the old black shirt he wore. "Shh . . . I didn't mean anything by it . . . such a delicate thing you are." He soothed, watching the4 boy's body slowly relax. "My gods, you are as thin as a bone . . . when have you last eaten?" he asked. The boy didn't answer, and Kunzite wondered what could have happened to turn a boy into this scared, trembling creature.  
"What happened to you?" He asked, and the boy shivered, then sat down to tell his story. 


	2. Be

"My Father." He said softly. He was obviously used to being hit for too many words, and tended to be quiet, rather than be hit. Kunzite tried to understand this, but came up with a blank. He could not remember a family, being a creature created from blood and stone. But obviously a 'father' was some sort of terrible person. The way the boy spoke of this person, they must be very terrible.  
  
"Tell me more." He asked. He placed a hand under the boy's chin and lifted it, looking into the depths of his amazingly green eyes. "I promise no one will hurt you. I'm your master, and that means your protector as well." He said. Watching the boy's eyes, a brightness slid into them all at once and slowly the boy gave him a slight, but altogether a relieved smile. Kunzite leaned forward slightly and kissed him on the mouth lightly. When he pulled back, the boy was confused, but not afraid.  
  
"Okay." He finally whispered, and seemed to think on how to express all of this. "I was a very difficult child. Really I must have been." The boy started. Kunzite was in deep thought as he listened, trying to figure out all of this, along with trying to place dark kingdom morals onto what the boy already knew. "Well, when I was disobedient, even in thought, he would punish me. It must have been hard on him. Me being such a trial on him. I was the last of six children." The boy whispered, in his soft, unassuming voice. Kunzite realized suddenly that the boy's words: father had meant a parent. That a parent, someone who was the creator of an innocent child could be so cruel was a blow to Kunzite. He could see a Master giving beatings for discipline, and was aware that such could abuse that privilege, his own Master had been rather partial to using Kunzite for sexual pleasure, but for a parent to do so was just terrible.  
  
"Poor thing . . . " he murmured, stroking the boy's soft cheek. The boy again rubbed his face against his master's hand. Kunzite found himself actually seeing the child as a top general . . . even if he was only a fearful child at this point. "Here now, sit down and take off your shirt." He said gently. The boy complied quietly and Kunzite sat of the bed behind him. He waited until the boy's shirt was completely off and slid off his gloves, then started to rub the knotted muscles out of the boy's back. His skin was crossed with scars, and Kunzite gently rubbed these with the tips of his fingers, letting his hands roam the young flesh and softly humming the song his own master had taught him during these quietly connecting moments.  
  
The boy was tense for a bit, then relaxed and leaned back against Kunzite. Kunzite was surprised, but moved his hands up to the boy's shoulders and rubbed. He tried to think of the boy as his student, but when the thought of power crossed his mind, he found himself getting aroused again. He smiled down at the boy.  
  
"Zoisite." He said, then a little louder. "You'll be called Zoisite. Don't you think that name suits you?" he said in the boy's ear. The boy nodded, but Kunzite could tell that he was confused. Let him be. He would understand soon enough, and until then Kunzite would be as kind as he could be.  
  
"Master?" Zoisite asked.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Thank you Master." He whispered softly. Kunzite gently kissed the boy's shoulder, then kept rubbing the young skin until his student fell asleep and slumped into his chest. He lay the boy down beside him and fell asleep. 


End file.
